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Friends	By : ladyvegeets Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own DBZ or the characters - they belong to Akira Toriyama, Funimation and Toei Animation as far as I know. No profit is being made from this fic.

Chapter List
- 29
- 30
LEMONY FANSERVICE WARNING AHEAD.

Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets
Ch.30 - Epilogue - Halloween

The air was crisp with the late fall weather, the smell of soggy leaves, apples and pumpkin spice prominent in the air. Jack-o-lanterns, ghosts and witches decorated the houses in the neighborhood. And inside the Brief’s house, Bulma was impatiently banging on the bathroom door.
“Oh my god, Vegeta, how long does it take? We’re going to be late!” she demanded.
“Would you quit your bitching already?” He shouted back through the door. “I’m almost done!”
She rolled her eyes and stomped back to check herself out in her full length mirror. She was wearing an astronaut suit, not just a costume, but an actual complete reproduction. She hoped she wouldn’t be too hot in it, as it was surprisingly mild for late Fall.
Bulma heard the bathroom door open and close, and turned to await Vegeta’s entrance. “It’s about time. Honestly, you took longer than meeeeeohmygod,” she said, her mouth dropping open as Vegeta stepped into the room.
He was wearing the perfect replica of Nathan Drake from the Uncharted games; cargo pants, an ivory colored cotton shirt only half tucked in, and a dusty blue scarf. There was also a leather aviator watch on his wrist, and a large buckled belt around his waist. His outfit could have passed for normal attire except he also wore leather shoulder holsters, a strap of fake ammunition across his chest, and in his hand was a fake AK-47. Vegeta had even applied some fake blood and dirt to his clothes, face and forearms to make it look as though he’d been roughed from ‘treasure hunting’. And he looked amazing.
“What? What’s wrong?” Vegeta asked at her reaction, looking down at himself.
“Everything,” Bulma said, eyeing him over unabashedly. “It’s absolutely criminal that you look that good.”
“Tch,” he replied, flashing her an irritated look even as a slight pink stain formed on his cheeks. He eyed her over, arching a brow at her space suit. “Astronaut?”
Bulma nodded, smiling. “Yes! A perfect imitation too, might I add. I researched it in detail. It was one of my dream jobs growing up,” she said proudly, putting her gloved fists on her hips, posing in a heroic stance.
Vegeta cocked his head, looking her over. “… It’s not slutty.”
Bulma nearly choked in surprise. “Wh-what?”
“It’s not slutty,” Vegeta repeated calmly, slinging his ‘gun’ over his shoulder. “Don’t girls wear skimpy, revealing outfits for Halloween?”
Bulma’s hands fell to her sides, feeling a flutter of disappointment. “Do… you want me to wear something slutty?” she asked uncertainly.
Vegeta’s eyes darkened, and he advanced towards her. She backed up until she couldn’t go any further, pressed against the mirror. He put a hand on the wall, trapping her, looming in close. “Do you have something like that?” he asked, his voice getting low.
Bulma swallowed nervously. His eyes were boring into hers, pinning her to the spot, and she could smell him as he leaned in, smelling clean and musky, and he smirked at her ever so slightly. “M-maybe,” she stammered.
His eyes narrowed. “Save it for tonight, then,” he said, letting his eyes wander over her suit. “Besides, I like this. It’s very you,” he added, tugging on her high neckline.
Bulma felt herself go red. “Is that a compliment?”
His lips quirked up. “It is. You don’t dress like everyone else. You have the weirdest fashion sense, but you’re always true to yourself. I respect that a lot.”
Bulma didn’t think she could blush any harder. She laughed self consciously, butterflies in her stomach. She thought of all the times people hadn’t taken her seriously because of her wardrobe, all the girls at school who talked about her behind her back, criticizing her style, or her mother’s debutante friends clucking their tongues at her lack of a designer wardrobe. To hell with them, Bulma had always told herself, but their prejudice had still stung. But Vegeta always appreciated her for who she was, not what she was expected to be. “Thanks…”
He kissed her chastely and then stepped back. “C’mon. We’ll be late, remember?”
She nodded, and they headed out. When the car dropped them off, Vegeta took one look at the throngs of people before grabbing Bulma’s hand. She threw him a smile, adoring his concern. He blushed, scowling, and looked away. “Don’t get separated,” he grouched. He led them through the crowd, trying to find their friends.
Goku was easy to spot, his height and hair making him an easy target. Goku was dressed in an ape costume, although the head piece was currently off, tucked under his arm. Chi-Chi was next to him, dressed as Chun Li from Street Fighter. “Hey guys!” Goku hollered.
Bulma waved. “Looking good,” she greeted as they approached.
“You too,” Goku replied. “At least your outfits are complete.
Chi-Chi made an aggravated sound. “Damnit, Goku, your costume IS complete too.”
“But there’s no tail,” he whined.
“We’ve been over this nine thousand times already. Ape’s don’t have tails!” she replied, exasperated.
Goku’s shoulders sagged. “I still think it should have a tail.”
Vegeta grunted, eying Goku’s costume, almost sounding as though he agreed.
“Ugh. Let’s go before the line gets too long,” Chi-Chi suggested, and she led Goku way, Bulma and Vegeta following behind.
“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” Vegeta grouched as they waited in line to enter the haunted house. “This is so stupid. Why are we here again?”
“Because you promised me,” Bulma reminded him.
Vegeta scowled. “That wasn’t fair, you blackmailed that promise from me.”
Bulma shrugged, smirking, remembering the incident with sly amusement. They’d been engaged in uh, ‘bedroom activities’ when she’d mentioned the haunted house. She’d asked him to go with her while her mouth had been occupying him rather effectively if she did say so herself. Desperate for her not to stop, Vegeta had promised to go.
“Don’t be a sore loser,” she chided smugly.
He leaned in, pressing his lips to her ear. “Watch yourself, Briefs. Payback is going to be a bitch.”
Bulma shivered, looking forward to his wicked promise. Suddenly she was a whole lot less keen on going to the haunted house, and she began to wonder if they could just skip out and return home…
“We’re next!” Chi-Chi exclaimed with excitement as they moved up in the line.
Well, maybe not.
The four of them were soon admitted into the haunted house. It was dark, screams and other creepy noises playing from overhead speakers, sharp shrieks punctuating long silences, each one making Bulma jump. She grabbed onto Vegeta’s arm, clinging closely to his side.
After walking through a couple of rooms filled with creepy mannequins and dioramas, they came to a fork in the path.
“Going left!” Goku announced and tugged Chi-Chi after him. Vegeta snorted and dragged Bulma to the right.
“Hey, shouldn’t we stick tog-” she started to protest.
“No,” Vegeta cut her off, and they entered the door on the right, separated from Goku and Chi-Chi. It only made Bulma more nervous, and she pressed herself up against Vegeta’s back.
Someone suddenly jumped out, lunging at them. Bulma screamed. Vegeta didn’t even flinch but he did tug her out of ‘harms’ way. The costumed worker snarled at them and moved on. Vegeta snorted, not impressed by the attempt to scare them. He continued through the house as Bulma tried not to hyperventilate, following at his heels, muffling her screams against his shoulder every time something spooked her.
“Why are you even scared?” he asked suddenly, sounding annoyed.
She clung to him pathetically. “Because it’s dark and scary and I know they’re going to jump out but I don’t know when!” she protested.
“It’s ridiculous,” he grouched.
Bulma glanced at him. “Why?”
“Because I’m here,” he said, looking away.
Bulma’s eyes widened, her feet slowing. Was Vegeta actually upset that she didn’t trust him to protect her? Bulma felt her chest tighten, and she smiled at him in the dark. “Vegeta…”
He huffed, embarrassed. “I’m leaving you behind now,” he grumbled and started to walk off.
Bulma shrieked and ran after him, clutching at his back. “OH MY GOD VEGETA DON’T LEAVE ME, PLEASE!”
She heard him chuckle and would have hit him but didn’t want to risk him leaving her to fend for herself. After a few more rooms, Vegeta’s hand suddenly shot out and stopped her from progressing any further.
She tensed, nervous. “Wh-what is it?”
“… We can’t go this way,” he said, and he grabbed her elbow and started leading her back the way they’d come.
“But,” she protested as he pulled her along. “Vegeta, the signs are pointing that way,” she said, pointing at a big green glowing arrow.
“They’re wrong,” he said flatly.
Bulma tugged her arm out from his grip. “Don’t be silly. I’m not going all the way back through this house. You must have made a mistake. C’mon.”
“Bulma-” he protested, but she wouldn’t listen. Steeling herself, Bulma walked forward, following the green arrows. He called to her again. “Bulma, please!”
She headed into the room he’d been reluctant to enter. It was set up like a graveyard, with tombstones and fake trees. One of the tombs had a giant, heaving pile of live worms, wriggling and writhing, with a fake zombie hand thrust up from the center. Bulma looked around, but she couldn’t see what the problem was. There was a clear path through the tombstones and she could even see the exit on the far side. “Vegeta, this is the right way,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him.
Vegeta lingered by the doorway, looking pale and tense. He didn’t move to enter.
“Vegeta?”
“Bulma, let’s go back,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse.
“But.. the exit is just there,” she said, pointing.
He glanced at the door, then at the swarming pile of worms, then quickly looked away, swallowing sickly. His hands fisted, and he shook his head, refusing.
Bulma’s eyes widened. This was… a first. She approached him and reached out, touching his wrist. “It won’t take 30 seconds to walk through this room…” she trailed off, seeing how poorly he was doing.
He was sweating. She could see it beaded on his brow, dripping down the side of his face. He looked down, away from her, ashamed. “… I can’t.”
“Why not?” she asked, trying to keep her voice gentle, not wanting to sound judgmental.
She watched his throat bob, and he let out a nervous, agitated sigh. “… Ginyu and his friends… buried me alive once.”
Bulma’s eyebrows shot up, and she raised a hand to cover her mouth in horror. “…What?”
Vegeta scowled, but he looked more anxious than angry. “When I was a kid, I don’t remember how old. Five, maybe. They dropped me in a compost bin and put bricks over the lid so I couldn’t get out. And there were… worms,” he admitted, his face ashen. “Everywhere. On my skin, in my clothes, in my hair, and I couldn’t get out. I screamed for hours but…” his voice trailed off, unwilling to continue.
Bulma was horrified; she couldn’t imagine what a tiny, five year old Vegeta must have gone through, left alone to suffer in such a place. She hugged him. Vegeta was stiff in her embrace but she didn’t let go, hugging him for all the times no one else had. Finally, Vegeta brought his hands up and hugged her back.
“That’s so awful, Vegeta, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“…”
“We can go back,” she offered. Her fear was nothing compared to Vegeta’s childhood trauma.
“… No,” he said, surprising her. He let her go, and she reluctantly did the same. His jaw was set stubbornly. “The exit is right there.”
He was trying to be brave. For her. For himself.
The idiot.
“Okay,” she said, wanting to support him. She pulled off her glove to take his hand in her own. “But we can go back at any time if you need to, alright? I’m right here.”
“I’m not scared,” Vegeta snapped petulantly. “It’s just a bad memory.”
“I know,” she agreed, not about to call him out and shatter his pride.
She led the way, putting herself between him and the worms, and he followed her stiffly. His hand squeezed hers tightly, too tightly, his palm moist, and she felt her heart break when she noticed his hand was trembling. This wasn’t just a bad memory for him. He was terrified.
They finally made it to the exit and Vegeta barged through the door, letting her go to gulp in the cool fresh air after suffering the stuffy house. He put his hands on his knees, bending over, catching his breath and trying to gather his nerves.
Goku and Chi-Chi were waiting for them.
“THAT WAS AWESOME!” Goku declared, looking excited.
Vegeta glared up at Goku with death in his eyes.
Goku took a step back. “Oh, jeez, Vegeta. Did you run through the house? You look wrecked, buddy.”
“Fuck you, carrot-head.”
“Yikes! So… I guess you don’t want to go again?”
“Hell no,” both Vegeta and Bulma said in unison.
Chi-Chi snickered at their unified answer. “You guys are going to start finishing each other’s sentences next.”
“He’d have to speak a full sentence for me to finish it,” Bulma replied, hoping to bait Vegeta out of his mood.
He scolwed at her. “And you’d have to stick to just one in order to let anyone else get a word in,” he countered.
Bulma smiled, glad to see the spark of fire in Vegeta’s eyes.
“WHOSE HUNGRY!?” Goku interrupted. “Hey, Vegeta, let’s go get some food. We’ll be right back, girls!” Before Vegeta could refuse, Goku grabbed him. Vegeta grouched, swearing and protesting but let Goku pull him away towards the food carts.
Bulma and Chi-Chi smiled and went to find a place to wait for them, sitting on a small garden ledge where they could watch the crowds of costumed trick-or-treaters. Bulma put her glove back on.
“Vegeta looks like he’s recovered from the tournament,” Chi-Chi commented.
Bulma nodded. “Goku too.”
Chi-Chi made a face. “Yes, well, Goku wouldn’t have been so badly injured if he hadn’t let that stupid Ginyu jerk throw him off. Did you know Ginyu asked Goku to join the Icejin? He said there’d be an opening shortly after Vegeta was ‘dealt with’. Goku said it stunned him so much he couldn’t respond to Ginyu’s attack in time.”
Before Bulma could reply they were interrupted. “BULMA, CHI-CHI!” A familiar voice cried out.
Bulma looked up in time to see a great big werewolf come barreling towards her. “…Raditz?” she asked, seeing a familiar mane of long black hair that fit so perfectly in with his costume she almost didn’t recognize the older boy.
Raditz gave her a very appropriate wolfish grin. “In the flesh,” he said, lowering his voice to take on a growling baritone, holding up his paws dramatically.
“Wow, you look incredible,” Bulma complimented. He’d clearly put a lot of effort into his costume, not to mention he had the physique to match the creature.
Raditz preened at the compliment. “You ladies too,” he said. He gave Bulma a once-over. “What, no bunny costume?”
Bulma’s mouth parted, startled. “How… How do you know about that?” she asked, and then swung her attention onto Chi-Chi, who refused to make eye contact with her.
Raditz winced. “Oops.”
Chi-Chi glared at him reproachfully. “You and your big mouth.”
“His big mouth?” Bulma cried out at Chi-Chi, her tone rising. “Chi-Chi, you promised to keep that a secret! I only wore that the one time because Yamcha wouldn’t shut up about it.”
“So…. You’re saying I brought my camera for nothing?” Raditz pouted.
“Take a hike, Raditz,” Chi-Chi snapped at him irritably.
“Take a bite, you say?” he grinned.
“No, ugh, you’re incorrigible,” Chi-Chi huffed. “We’re both spoken for, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Raditz shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t see a ring on it…”
Bulma smirked. She did have a ring, although her spacesuit gloves were obscuring her hands.
Raditz pulled out his phone. “C’mon ladies, let’s take a selfie before your fellas come back and ruin the illusion that I have you two to myself.”
Chi-Chi grumbled under her breath but both girls got up and obliging took a photo with him. Bulma felt Raditz’s arm snake around her middle as he held up his phone, grinning devilishly with his large, fake incisors and snapped a photo of the three of them.
“Gorgeous,” Raditz said, letting his arm with the camera drop, but not the one around Bulma’s waist. “And you ladies look fine too, I guess.” Bulma rolled her eyes and elbowed him. He took it while still clinging onto her. “Ouch. Feisty. You should be careful about angering a werewolf. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”
“We don’t like you, period,” Chi-Chi shot back, still mad at him.
Raditz put a hand over his chest. “Oh, you wound me, young Lucy Liu.”
“It’s Chun Li, moron,” Chi-Chi replied, stomping her foot angrily.
Raditz shrugged and tugged Bulma in tighter against his side. “Okay, whatever you say. SO! Who wants to go into the haunted house with me and help scare the workers? I made someone cry last year. I want to at least double that. Chi-Chi, you’re good at emasculating men, want in?”
“I’d rather rip my fingernails off.”
“Well, I’ll take that as a strong no. Bulma?” Raditz asked, looking at her hopefully.
Bulma was about to politely refuse when she felt Raditz retract his arm, taking a step away from her and running his hand through his hair with a guilty grin. She looked over to what had caught his attention, seeing Goku and Vegeta returning with several fast food bags in hand. Vegeta was scowling at Raditz in a very unfriendly way.
“Raditz! Wow, great costume!” Goku greeted his cousin cheerily.
Chi-Chi glared at all the food Goku had. “How much food did you buy? See, this is why you’re always broke! Ugh, you’re so useless with money. Do I have to do everything for you?”
Goku laughed awkwardly. They hadn’t told Chi-Chi all the specifics of the tournament, most importantly that Bulma had let Goku keep the money he’d won (after returning the initial betted amount); Goku, Vegeta and Bulma had promised not to say anything about the winnings to anyone, even to Chi-Chi, at least not until the Icejin trial had come to a close.
While Chi-Chi chided Goku, Vegeta continued to glare at Raditz. He shoved his bags of food at Bulma and tugged her away from Raditz.
“Hey,” she protested, almost dropping a bag as he manhandled her.
He didn’t reply but his expression stormy. Vegeta pulled her over to sit down on the nearby ledge. He pulled out his phone and furiously started texting.
A moment later, she felt her phone buzz.
Why did he have his arm on you? his message read. She glanced at him, arching a brow. Was he really texting her right now? She didn’t know if she should laugh or be offended. Vegeta refused to look at her, and she guessed he didn’t want to draw attention to them by arguing with her in public. Or maybe he was too upset to face her.
She put the food down and texted him back. Are you talking about Raditz? [Dog emoji]
YES, Raditz. Why, was there someone ELSE touching you?
Bulma sighed. Are you still jealous of him? [sad face]
I wouldn’t HAVE to be if you didn’t let him paw you.
Bulma snorted. Vegeta, I’m wearing a spacesuit, I can barely feel a thing in this.
That’s not the point, Bulma!
She saw him start to type something else, but he changed his mind and turned his screen off, pocketing his phone with an agitated huff. He looked away, embarrassed. “Just…eat your damn food before it gets cold,” he grouched at her.
Bulma glanced at the food, then back at him, his face still pulled into a petulant scowl. He was in a bad mood, probably in part to what had happened in the haunted house. But to his credit, he was also trying to let the matter go. Bulma smiled and leaned over, touching his arm and placing a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to be jealous. Trust me. There’s only you.”
He looked at her from the corner of his eye. Finally she felt him relax, and he huffed softly. “I…” he started to say then stopped, frowning, glancing at the others who were talking and eating nearby, and though they were trying to give them some privacy, Vegeta still didn’t feel comfortable being so open around them. “…I’m hungry. Open up the food already.”
Bulma did just that even know that’s not what he had been going to say. They ate together, she and Vegeta sharing their meal in silence while they listened to their friends joke around. When she was done, Bulma rested her head against Vegeta’s shoulder.
“So is that Indiana Jones?” Raditz suddenly asked Vegeta, bravely attempting to engage him conversation.
Vegeta’s lip curled in disgust.
“Uh, no, he’s Nathan Drake,” Bulma corrected.
Raditz looked surprised. “Oh yeah, from Uncharted? Isn’t he a good guy? I’m surprised the hero type would appeal to you, Vegeta,” he commented smugly.
Vegeta bristled with indignation. Bulma hurried to interject. “Drake is a hero, but he’s not your typical good guy. Drake is a smart-mouthed, independent, clever, strong, and athletic. He came from a broken background and participates in illegal activities. He kicks a lot of butt. And he is tamed by a beautiful, smart, resourceful woman… Sound familiar?” She asked, smiling cutely.
The other’s laughed at her assessment, but a glance at Vegeta told her he didn’t much appreciate her comparison, his eyes promising retribution when they were alone. The group started talking about their own characters when Bulma felt her phone buzz again.
Let’s go, Vegeta’s message read.
Bulma typed back a response. That’s not really getting into the Halloween spirit. [Sad face] [jack-o-lantern]
I’m spiriting you away. That’s spirit enough.
Oh, har har. [Pained face]
I’ll… scare the pants off you?
Pft. You’re jokes are terrible. Besides, I’m not wearing any. [Smiley face] [winky face]
…Wait, no pants? Really?
Really. Do you know how damn hot this spacesuit is?
Vegeta slipped his phone into his pocket. “We’re going home,” he announced loudly, taking Bulma’s hand and pulling her up. “Bulma’s not feeling well.”
“I-” she started to protest, but Vegeta pulled her after him before she could argue, and she hastily waved goodbye to her friends over her shoulder, not really putting up that much of a fight.
Vegeta led her to the street and hailed down a cab. They got in the back seat together and Vegeta gave the address for home. They sat in silence as they were driven.
“…Is this about Raditz?” she asked after a while, wondering if he was still upset.
“This is about you not wearing any pants,” he replied softly, so at not to be heard over the music playing on the cab’s radio.
Bulma smiled. “Okay. Good.”
Vegeta didn’t say anything else, but his hand came to rest on her leg, and all Bulma could think about for the rest of the ride home was his fingers teasingly kneading her inner thigh.
As soon as they entered the house, Vegeta trapped her against the front door. Bulma felt her heart beat wildly in her chest. Vegeta’s eyes raked over her. “How do you get this damn thing off,” he asked, his voice already low.
Bulma smiled coyly at him. “With great difficulty. Also, I uh, should shower. I’m really sweaty.”
Vegeta scowled, not happy at the thought of being kept waiting, denied the opportunity to peel her out of the the suit off. “That’s not what I had in mind.”
She smiled and patted his cheek. “Patience,” she drawled. “I’ll make it quick. Why not answer some trick-or-treaters while you wait?”
“Tch. As if,” he snarked, stepping back and crossing his arms, giving her a petulant look.
Bulma shook her head and headed to the bathroom to clean up, feeling his scowling gaze on her the whole way up the stairs.
She tried not to take too long in the shower, washing herself quickly. Just as she was getting out, the power and lights suddenly went out. The room went dark. Bulma paused, waiting for the back-up generator to kick in.
.
..
… It didn’t.
A little worried, Bulma reached blindly for her towel and wrapped it around herself. She then stumbled out of the bathroom but opening the door provided no relief, the entire house pitch black. She was totally blind, and dressed in only a bath towel.
“Vegeta?” she called hesitantly.
“I’ve got it!” he called back from further in the house, already on his way to the fuse box. “Go wait in our room.”
She ran her hand along the wall to find her way towards Vegeta’s room. She smiled that he called it ‘their’ room; it had become that way. Ever since Zarbon had attacked her she’d been spending most of her nights with Vegeta, and he’d never complained about her invading his space. She finally found the door and let herself into the room, stumbling her way over to the couch in the dark.
After a few minutes the lights still hadn’t come on. She began to wonder if Vegeta even knew how to handle the fuses, especially if there was a problem with the generator itself. She stood up, thinking she should try to aid him when she heard the bedroom door open and close.
“Vegeta?”
Nothing.
Bulma clutched her towel at her chest, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and afraid. Don’t be stupid, your imagination is your own worse nightmare, she tried to convince herself. “Vegeta, is that you?” she asked again uncertainly.
There was still no reply. She was sure she heard something move in the room.
Panic. Her imagination took over. Oh god, what if it was an intruder? What if Frieza had sent someone after her, even from prison? What if someone had cut the power and slipped past Vegeta, or already taken care of him, and now and they’d come to take care of her too? Bulma’s breathing got fast, shallow, and she backed up, trying to think if there was anything in the room she could use as a weapon, or if she’d be able to sneak out and run away without being caught. Just as she was considering her possibilities, she felt something breathe against the back of her neck.
“Boo!”
Bulma screamed. She jumped and would have spun away except Vegeta grabbed her and held her tightly from behind, laughing softly at her reaction.
“YOU ASSHOLE!” Bulma wailed, her heart about to explode. “VEGETA, DON’T EVER DO THAT AGAIN, YOU REALLY SCARED ME!”
He hugged her tighter as if in apology, but she could hear the smirk in his voice when he replied. “You’re the one who wanted me to get into the Halloween spirit.”
Bulma tried to calm her breathing. “I c-can’t believe you! You jerk! Did you cut the power just to play a prank on me?”
“Mmm,” he replied, nuzzling the back of her neck.
Bulma felt relief wash through her that they weren’t being attacked, even as she felt angry at his stupid joke. “You’re such a jerk. An evil jerk.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he chuckled. Then he lightly bit her shoulder. The gesture shocked her into realizing she was still only wearing a towel, and he was holding her possessively, pressed up against her in the dark. Bulma swallowed, and not out of fear, her heartbeat quickening for entirely new reasons.
“We should turn the power back on,” she suggested weakly.
“You seem to enjoy turning things on,” he replied, nipping her bare shoulder, trailing kisses up her neck. His hands ran teasingly down her sides, along her towel, until his fingers skimmed her naked thighs. “And you’re getting a bad habit of going about without pants on, Earth Woman,” he growled, his deep tone awakening something in her lower belly.
Bulma suppressed a shiver and pressed herself back against him, feeling his warmth radiate through his clothing, enjoying being sheltered by his strong presence in the dark. “Earth Woman?” she asked, amused.
Vegeta trailed his fingers under her towel, pulling it up in order to feel her thighs, ghosting his fingertips along the soft swell of her bottom. He hummed. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? Your space suit gave you away,” he whispered playfully against her ear.
“Oh?” she stammered, feeling her skin prickle and bump at his touch, her heart rate picking up at his words. Was he role playing with her. “So you’re not from Earth?”
“No,” he admitted, his voice purring against the pulse in her throat. “I’m an alien.”
She smiled. “An alien Prince?”
“Sure,” he agreed against her neck, tasting her, his tongue laving her neck.
Bulma could barely contained a whimper. “A-and what do you want with me?”
“You’re not allowed to move,” he replied.
“And if I do?”
“I stop.”
Bulma felt his hands on her chest where her towel was knotted, and he slowly pulled it open. He let the fabric slip over her, the cotton dragging against her nipples until the towel pooled at her feet. She shivered, naked against him.
“It’s cold,” she protested.
“Is it?” he asked and his thumbs brushed over her pert nipples cruelly. Bulma let out a muffled sound, arching against him, her senses heightened by her lack of vision. She couldn’t see anything, but she could feel everything. She could feel his heat behind her and his hands in front of her, plucking at her nipples.
He leaned against her, and the hard line of his cock pressed against her ass. His desire for her only fanned her own lust. “Vegeta…” His name slipped from her lips, as much a plea as it was to tease him, knowing his weakness for hearing it. If he wasn’t going to play fairly, then neither was she.
His fingers tightened over her nipples and he sucked the smooth line of her neck, no doubt leaving a mark. His hands moved down along her ribs, over the soft swell of her belly, until he reached the apex of her thighs. Bulma gasped as he spread her lips open, baring her to the cool night, feeling the air kiss her wet core. She bit her lip, flushing with embarrassment and lust… Vegeta always awoke a dark, shameless part within her.
With his other hand he slipped a finger against her, rubbing over her clit and down to her center. Bulma shivered, moaning encouragingly, starting to rock her hips against his hand.
“I told you not to move,” he growled.
She whimpered, struggling to still her hips but they bucked of their own accord when his finger teased her over and over with cruel, wet strokes. “I c-can’t help it,” she sobbed.
He chuckled. “Lewd Earth girl,” he teased.
“I-I’m lewd?” she gasped.
“Mm-hmm,” he insisted. “Because very soon you’re going to be begging me for more.”
Bulma felt her mouth go dry. Her whole body was taut, like he was pulling a string at her center and she was helpless to dance to his whim. Her pride wanted her to resist, to take up his challenge, but all that was quickly overshadowed by the need to just give in already.
And then his thick finger slipped inside her and all reasoning went out the window. She had to grab onto his neck behind her for support, and he was good enough to allow it. He fucked her slowly, getting her wetter and loosening her up for what was to come. Her knees were trembling, ready to give out any moment, and she couldn’t contain the helpless pants and whimpers that fell from her mouth.
It didn’t take long for Vegeta’s prediction to come true.
“H-oh please, Vegeta, please,” she started to beg.
“Please what?”
Bastard. He was going to make her say it, knowing it embarrassed her. Knowing it turned her on.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Take me…”
He slipped another finger inside her. She keened, riding his hand.
“Take you how?” he purred.
Bulma struggled to think. They’d been so gentle and tender lately, a side effect of nearly losing each other, a means to affirm their love because Vegeta felt more comfortable expressing himself through actions than he did through words, and every single time had been wonderful. But Bulma ached for something different now, she didn’t want to feel his tender adoration.
She wanted to be desired. Needed. Lusted over.
And it was the season to be wicked.
She turned her head, gasping against his cheek as he fucked her with his fingers. “Don’t,” she said.
He stilled his hand at her word. “Don’t what?” he asked, hesitant.
Bulma smiled against his jaw. “Don’t be gentle, Vegeta.”
His breath shuddered out and he bit back a groan. Then he picked her up about the middle and threw her over the side of the couch, ass up. She cried out, the fabric of the couch grazing her body sensually. Her ass spread open indecently over the arm rest. He followed her down, one powerful arm placed for support by her face. He pulled himself out of his pants, pressing the head of his swollen cock against her. She could feel him rub at her center, he was hot and hard, and the feel of him awoke an animalistic instinct within her. She bit her lip in anticipation, her fingers curling on the couch. She pushed back against him, inviting. He took it, pushing inside her without hesitation, sinking in.
Bulma pressed her face into the couch, sobbing as he entered. It was pure bliss. But before he sank in all the way he pulled out. Then shoved back in. Out, then in. Out, then in. Over and over and over, repeatedly penetrating her until Bulma thought she was going to go mad.
“Vegeta, please!” she wailed when it seemed like he’d never relent.
He bowed over her, grabbing her hip. “Again,” he growled, his voice hoarse.
“Vege~ta,” she crooned, knowing he loved to hear her say his name when they were intimate. “Vegeta, I need you. Please. I need you, Vegeta.”
“Bulma, fuck…” he groaned and he gave in, pushing inside her, sinking in as deep as he could. She shivered in delight, groaning as he pressed deep into her belly. She heard him choke back a cry, and it took him a moment to compose himself. It was almost uncomfortable but then he started fucking her and she was ruined, unmade. He swelled and thrust inside her, making her wail and beg shamelessly for more, making her keen, fisting her fingers against the couch because she was helpless to do anything else, laying under him as he used her the way she begged to be.
His fingers tightened on her hip and he didn’t hold back, pounding into her with a desperate, frantic need, his breathing ragged. Words spilt from her mouth; his name, encouragements, mindless moans and choked sounds that were no longer intelligible but she was too far gone to care. Bulma could feel her pleasure mounting, building, bursting beyond containment. Her clit was rubbing against the couch and his cock was pressing against that spot inside her that made her want to weep and claw at his back but she couldn’t so she clawed at the couch instead, writhing under him. Suddenly he shifted, grabbing her ass with both hands, spreading her apart around his cock with his thumbs on her, and he drove into her powerfully, demanding her submission. Her pleasure.
Bulma gave it willingly. “Vegeta!”
She coiled up, tensing and screamed into the couch as she came, wailing in agonized bliss as she felt apart while he continued to use her. He groaned, his fingers tightening painfully on her ass.
“F-fuck, yes… Bulma!” he moaned and came, emptying himself inside her.
She whimpered as he rocked against her, eking out their pleasure. Finally he collapsed on top of her, pressing his brow to her shoulder, gasping as he tried to catch his breath. He was still buried solidly inside of her.
“Bulma…” he sighed, trailing a hand up her side before hugging her tightly. She smiled, happy to be held as she came down from her climax.
They lay together for a while, recovering and content to be close. Bulma wriggled, starting to feel squashed. Vegeta obligingly rolled off her, slipping out. She winced, worried for the poor state of the couch. She turned around so that she could face Vegeta, barely able to make him out in the dark. “That was… wow. Ten out of ten.”
Vegeta huffed a laugh and tugged her in against him. She felt the coarse fabric of his clothes against her naked skin, and it reminded her of what he was wearing. “Are you… you’re still in costume?”
“Yes?” he replied, as if that should have been obvious.
Vegeta had been dressed in his costume all this time and she couldn’t see it?! “… You need to turn the lights on. And then we’re doing this again,” she told him sternly.
Vegeta chuckled. “Earth women are insatiable.”
“Women?” Bulma asked, pretending to be indignant. “Just how many have you had?”
“Enough to know you’re all I need.”
“Hmmm…” she replied, a sappy smile curling her lips, and she buried her face in the scarf about his neck.
“Admit it. That was a good line,” he gloated.
“Pfft, the only line I care about is the B-line I’m going to make to your pants in five minutes.”
“Classy.”
“Yeup.”
His fingers brushed her hair, and she sighed happily against him. Then she shivered, feeling the cool air against her naked flesh. Vegeta didn’t need to be told. He turned them over, cocooning her between his own body and the couch. He shifted, reaching for something, and a moment later she felt him pull a blanket over her that they kept on the couch for when they cuddled up and watched movies together.
Bulma smiled like a contented cat. She pressed her nose to the V of his shirt, snuggling close against his warmth. “You’re so good to me,” she hummed softly. “I love you, Vegeta.”
She heard him swallow, his body going tense. He didn’t respond. He normally grunted at least. She ran her hand over his sweaty shirt, pressing closer against him.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, just… thinking.”
“About?”
Vegeta was quiet a while. Bulma didn’t expect an answer, Vegeta was often broody and unresponsive. But perhaps the dark made him feel more comfortable to bare himself so rawly, because he soon replied, “I’m trying to remember the past. But I can’t think of anything I’ve done good enough in my life that warrants me deserving you…”
Bulma felt her throat close, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. She curled her fingers in his shirt, holding him close. “Vegeta?”
“What?” he asked, his voice gruff, and she could tell he was already uncomfortable about having shared so much.
“You need to go turn the power back on. Because I want to ride you while looking in your eyes this time.”
She felt his hands tighten on her. “…Can’t,” he finally choked out.
She looked up at him although she still couldn’t see in the dark. “Vegeta, are you bashful?”
“Tch, not about the eye thing,” he replied. “I meant about the power.”
“What about the power?”
“I can’t turn it back on.”
Bulma felt her stomach sink, thinking of the setup their house had with the backup generator. There were a lot of wires. “… Please tell me you didn’t just pull everything out of the sockets.”
“Er… I love you?”
Bulma sighed. “Oh my god… it’s a good thing I love you too. You owe me so much sex for this.”
“Hn.”
“…”
“… Didn’t you say something about a slutty outfit earlier?”

~Fin~

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AN: Well folks, that’s pretty much it. What a ride, huh?

Thank you so, so much for all the lovely comments/review/emails and fanart!. You guys are amazing. You’ve no idea how encouraging and inspiring it is to get such lovely feedback and affirmation.
Special thanks to those who made beautiful fanart for Friends, so far from: GalacticShark17, AlienaChan, Batcreditcard/Anne, Rutbisbe, VegetaPsycho, nelicquele79, goldenrosey101 and koii, but I would always love to see more!!

Some people have already asked about a sequel. I won’t say it’s impossible, but at this stage it’s unlikely, at least in the short term. I have other Vegebul fics I’m working on/want to start, so they’ll probably come first. BUT if inspiration strikes, I wouldn’t say no to revisiting these adorable guys and continuing their story. They’re my babies after all.

Don’t forget to follow me for updates, as I have MORE VEGEBUL STORIES in the works coming your way! Follow me on twitter, tumblr, FFnet and AO3. Also consider checking out ‘The Prince and The Heiress’, and ‘We’re Just Saiyan’ google communities. The former has a fanart/fic awards event coming up October 2016, so nominate your favorites in the fandom, and maybe discover some new favorite artists/writers in the process!

Once again, thanks to you all for your support over these last few months. :)

P.s. Someone needs to draw Vegeta cosplaying as Nathan Drake, like, RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW. plz *puppy eyes* (…Also Raditz as a sexy werewolf haha.)
EDIT: lol, Rutbisbe drew Vegeta-Drake and astronaut Bulma, and GalacticShark17 drew Were-Raditz, check those out ASAP, but my soul will not be assuaged, BRING ON MORE DBZ HALLOWEEN ART, MY BODY IS READY.

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